Remembrances of a Starry Night
by nerdygaycas
Summary: Dean needs some time to be alone and find his leads again. When you are lost, you always find something to get you back on track, something to love or something to worry about. Terrible summary, mild SLASH.


**The characters are obviously not mine.**

**This is my first fic in years, and the first i've written in english. Review please :)**

It was a starry night.

Dean had gone out of town because he'd had an argument with his brother thanks to the demon, Ruby. He really couldn't understand how his little brother was unable to determine how very wrong everything about that doubled-faced bitch was. Sure, she was hot, or at least, the vessel she inhabited was, and his brother was after all, just a man. But there was something about her; Dean wanted to trust her as much as Sam did. Hell, that demon had practically served herself on a silver plate, defending them and fighting against others of her own kind. She almost got herself killed at least thrice for them, and he was grateful, he really was, but still, that didn't meant he could rely on her, after all, she wasn't human. She was a supernatural creature, and he knew damn well not to trust anything that wasn't pure human material. Well, that was until he met Castiel and finally recognized the existence of angels.

Angels. It sounded ridiculous to his ears, but then again, nothing in his life had ever been normal in the less, so the idea didn't strike him too hard. What really caught his attention was how different these angels were from what he'd ever imagined. His knowledge about angels was very limited. He remembers his mother telling him angels were watching over him, with an affectionate expression plastered on her face and a gleam in her eyes, every night before he went to sleep. He felt safe then, it was a guarding shell that he didn't knew he had, that was until it was gone. He was forced by the circumstances to grow up, to rid himself of mindless childhood and innocent playful days. Shadows of the past were tearing his small family apart, and when he needed it the most, his father, the great hunter in seek of revenge, was gone too.

John Winchester loved his children with all the might of his heart, but the daily reminder of his young wife, Mary, burning attached to the ceiling in a macabre way, with her screaming eyes staring at the nothingness was too much to bear. After that, he wanted nothing more but to kill in the most painful way the one which was responsible for his misery and the misfortune of the one that'd be the love of his life till the end of his days. But somewhere along the path of rage and vendetta he was leading, he forgot about the two people who needed him the most, his boys.

He always thought he was doing the right thing, and every time he had a clue about the whereabouts of the demon, he convinced himself that he was finally gonna be able to stop the heart of it or to kill the beast encompassed within the body it had chosen. But, there was always something. The demon was smart, and almost impossible to kill. It was this mission that had dragged away the young years of his two sons. He regretted not being there for them when they needed advice, or when they felt worried about his well being, but honestly if he had a choice to do it all again, he'd have chosen the same path, at the same costs.

Dean remembers too well the nights when Sammy couldn't sleep, the times his little brother would start asking questions he'd rather never respond. Oh, he had answers; heaven knows he had, but to put a little kid through all of that bullshit? No. At first, he lied, he lied, and then lied some more, but Sammy wasn't dumb, and he didn't buy anymore any of the crap Dean invented just to keep him off track. He remembers when Sam finally knew the whole truth, how disappointed he looked and the hurt expression drawn in his delicate features. He hated lying to his brother, and for some time, he hated his father for putting him in this position. None of it was his fault, and since his father wasn't one to take the responsibility of raising his children in a loving home, he decided to be the one who looked out for his brother, no matter the cost, he would always, always protect him.

A light breeze chills the air, and the hood of the Impala has been sprinkled with the dew of early morning. He doesn't know how much time he's spent there, all he knows is that at this moment he wishes for something, he doesn't know what. Maybe, he wishes his brother to be able to dump the demon, or maybe he wants to be able to trust her. Perhaps his desires are more selfish and he just wanted time to himself, but the least he wants now is to be alone.

His insides are craving company, any really. He wouldn't mind being with a melancholic junkie, or a resentful whore. Well, maybe he _does_ care for whom there is to join him in his current state of disheartenmeant. That's when he hears the soft ruffle of wings, and he knows what's coming.

Of course it could be any angel, he hasn't turned around yet, and it could be that dick Zachariah or Uriel, trying to make him work for them as a little slave and just follow orders without questioning them, but somehow, and he surely doesn't know how, he knows it's not them. Never them. He feels the presence of that other angel, the one that isn't so much of an arrogant dick, the one who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.

"Dean" Castiel says in a muffled voice with a pinch of worry. Dean likes the fact that the angel worries about him. It's nice to have other person –angel- apart from Sammy and Bobby, someone who isn't obliged to care for him because they're already stuck in too much shit because of him.

"Hey, Cas" Dean never intended his voice to sound so hoarse and eager. He tries to hide it with a fake cough, and apparently he is successful. Maybe it's because the angel wasn't really paying that much attention, Dean thinks.

But he is utterly wrong, when he lifts his gaze, he comes across those blue blue eyes, staring right into his soul, deciphering him and leaving him bare in the inside, and feeling a little exposed on the outside, too.

"I sensed that you were preoccupied and I came as soon as I could" a strained silence follows. When Cas notices that Dean isn't even planning to respond, he adds "are you okay, Dean?" And there Dean notices that the angel's voice sounds much more troubled, and he sees the angel approaching him, with a tender concern in his eyes. God! Dean could definitely lose himself in there; they seem infinite and so very calm.

A warm, firm hand is pressed lightly upon his shoulder, and reassurance for everything that was worrying him and drove him to that field in the middle of the night suddenly disappears, relieving him of a burden he wasn't aware he was carrying. He looks up again, and the angel, well, the thing about personal space has to be discussed again, no doubt. Yet, for some reason, he doesn't feel the urge to pull away as many other times he's done before, this time, right now, it is different.

But still, Dean Winchester is not about to grow a vagina at this time, and have an emotional breakdown as to what has his life has become and where he did wrong. He decides to dismiss the awkwardness in the only way he knows, joking.

"What, you worried about me, Cas? Don't you and your feathery ass have somewhere else to be? Like, defending seals or something?" Yeah, definitely the best way to quit an uncomfortable situation.

The angel hesitates for a moment and withdraws his hand, as if just noticing what he was doing. "Uhmm, yes. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Dean" Damn those eyes, Dean thinks. He should not be thinking how beautiful they are, or how much he likes them staring at him with such intensity.

Castiel decides Dean is right. There are seals to protect; he cannot allow himself to throw all away just because a human, the righteous man, feels a little lonely. He is a soldier, and no, he shouldn't be _feeling _for the human, even though he cannot recognize what it is he's feeling. He just knows it's wrong, and without another glance, disappears with that faint sound so characteristic of angels.

Dean feels a little woebegone about the abrupt departure of Cas. Dammit, he really, _really, _oughtn't to feel like this, whatever this is, towards the angel. It isn't normal, it isn't right. Dean goes back into the car, and starts the drive back to the motel. Hopefully Sam will be asleep and there won't be any questions. He really isn't in the mood to think about anything. Except perhaps, how good it sounds when Castiel calls him by his name in that grave voice of his.

Dammit!


End file.
